The Hunter's Kiss
by Sera Femme
Summary: One shot. A young Woad woman is discovered by Tristan in the woods. How will the scout react? Tristan/OC


The Hunter's Kiss

As the first pale beams of the rising sun crept their way through the thick branches of the ancient trees, the woman blinked slowly. Opening her eyes fully, she took in her surroundings through a haze of fatigue. In the distance the mournful cry of a hawk could be heard. Aside from the routine sounds of small animals and birds beginning their day, the forest was still.

After carefully adjusting her position on the branch she had claimed as her perch, she reached for the small skin of water at her side. The liquid was warm and did little to ease the discomfort of the dryness of her lips and mouth. Clearing her throat forcefully, she looked around the silent woods in annoyance.

Nothing.

It had been four days already. Four tedious days of scouting the surrounding forest and roads. Not even the smallest deer paths had gone unchecked. The rumors in their village had run rampant for days before Merlin had made the decision to send them out. Information had been received that a high ranking Roman official was traveling to Hadrian's Wall and the area they had chosen for their ambush of the caravan was nearly perfect. A show of power, the Elders had said.

It did not look as if they would be showing much of anything this day. Three nights in succession she had returned to their makeshift camp with nothing to report. Last night as she had given an account of her day to the others she has noticed the defeat in their eyes. It was a rarity to be sent below the Wall and now it all seemed a waste of their time.

After rolling the stiffness from her shoulders the woman made a vain attempt at tucking her dark, stray hairs back into their bindings. The air was heavy with warmth and moisture and her locks hung swollen and limp. In the night, the dampness had begun to seep into her leathers and the wet hides were beginning to rub her skin raw in places. Taking a swipe at the tiny beads of sweat that had formed on her brow, she reached once more for the skin of water. With one tiny drink the container had been emptied and she couldn't suppress a small groan.

Climbing to the ground swiftly, she stumbled slightly as her body was jarred by the impact. Hours spent without the full use of her legs had taken their toll. After giving her limbs a moment to adjust she headed South. The evening before, she had come across a small clearing with a crooked stream running down one side. Leaving her post was not something she was in the habit of doing, but the desire to stretch her aching muscles and cool herself in the small creek proved too tempting. No signs of Sarmatian, Roman or even Woad were evident and she was confidant that the short excursion would be perfectly safe.

Not long into her trek, she spotted the edge of the clearing and sighed her relief. Stepping through the trees and into the open air was like entering into another world entirely. The air was crisp and her lungs seemed to fill more easily. The place was lush and green and more beautiful than she had realized in the fading light of the previous evening.

Dropping to her knees at the water's edge, the women sat her bow aside and dipped her hands into the crystal depths. Bringing handfuls of the cool liquid to her mouth, she drank her fill before removing and filling the empty skin. Then cupping her hands once more, brought handfuls of water to her aching neck. The chilly burst of relief felt marvelous and she spent some time bathing away the film of dirt and sweat that clung to her arms and shoulders.

Leaning back to rest on her heels, she decided that her peaceful recess had gone on long enough. Grabbing the newly filled skin, she went about tying it back onto her belt. As she concentrated on looping the thin pieces of leather together, she suddenly got the unsettling feeling that she was in danger. Someone was there in the trees, watching her.

Making certain not to pause in her task, she glanced to the bow at her left. It was too far away to help her now. Steeling herself for her observer to attack, she struggled to fight the growing sense of panic. It was possible that she was mistaken. _Perhaps it is just some hunter wandered too far from his usual prowling grounds_, she thought hopefully.

Tying off the last strips of leather, she detected movement in the trees directly across from her resting spot. Raising her large brown eyes, it took a moment for her to make out his form. At first she thought that her suspicions had been correct and the man before her was just a lost woodsman. As he stepped from the forest and into th patchy rays of sunlight that streaked the clearing, she realized he was no village hunter.

She had seen this man before. Once, in the chaotic shuffle of battle, she had noticed his form. The wild tangle of braids he wore and the strange markings on his high cheekbones were unmistakable. He was one of Arthur's Sarmatians.

His amber eyes locked on her own, she thought back to that day. She had watched him from the trees as he took down multitudes of her kinsmen. From her vantage point in the forest he would have been an easy target. For reasons unknown she had hesitated, only able to observe in awe his speed and grace. She had thought him beautiful then. Perhaps it was that beauty that made her reluctant to take the shot. Then it had all ended as the horns that signaled their order to retreat had sounded.

Coming back to the present, she noticed that his bow was raised. His mouth was drawn into a firm line, his expression unreadable. For one fleeting moment, she thought that he would let her go. As he loosed his shot and she heard the all too familiar twang, time seemed to stand still. Ages upon ages seemed to pass and yet she had no time to react, unable to pull her eyes from his steady gaze.

With a sharp burst of pain, she was brought back to herself. The sudden sting in her ribs exploded into a dull throb at the realization that she had been hit. Slumping to the side, she let her eyes drift to the stream. The soft bubbling sounds of the water vanished as she fell to her side. Then rolling to her back her eyes focused on the cloudless sea of sky above. A dark blotch of color marred the azure perfection and as she struggled to focus, she realized it was a hawk circling overhead. Concentrating on the bird's fluid dance, she thought vaguely that all was not lost. If she was lucky, the man would leave her to her fate.

Coming out of the darkness, the woman whimpered softly as the wound in her side burst to life once more. In the haze of her torment, she felt herself being lifted slightly from the softness of the forest floor. Warm hands brushed her hair from her face and the soft scratch of fabric could be felt against her shoulders. Opening her eyes slowly, she blinked away the dark spots that clouded her vision before realizing she was now cradled in her killer's strong and deadly arms.

His breath came in small, cloudy puffs and as she regained her senses somewhat, she realized he was speaking. The words were softly spoken, barely a murmur and she did not recognize the language he used. Resting his brow on hers, he continued the soothing whispers, what she could only assume were words of comfort.

As another tremor of pain wracked her tiny frame, she gasped for air hurriedly. Coughing slightly, she noted the strong metallic taste in her throat that was only getting stronger as the blood pooled there. Slowing her breathing helped the pain, but with every intake of breath she felt herself slipping closer to the unknown.

Reaching down with shaking hands, she grasped the shaft of the arrow that protruded from below her ribcage. The pain was beginning to become unbearable and she was desperate for it to cease. Before she could end it, strong, calloused fingers closed over her own, stilling the action.

Raising her eyes to his, she gazed at him openly and without fear. He looked older than she had thought. Small wisps of gray streaked his beard and tiny lines had formed faint creases at his eyes. Was it possible that he was more beautiful now than he had been on that day that seemed so long ago? The thought made a small smile tug at the corner of her lips, the motion causing a tiny rivulet of blood to seep out. Swallowing the bitter liquid, she gasped slightly at the pain it had caused her.

With the soft whimpers of her pain seeming to echo in the silent stillness around then, she noticed a change in his steely gaze. Winding her slippery fingers between his, she marveled at the hot stickiness. With ever forced breath she felt more warm fluid trickle over their tangled hands. Her brows knit together with determination, she looked at him pleadingly. He stared at her for only a moment before giving a single nod to signal his understanding. She needed him to give her release. Gripping the front of his now blood coated tunic with her free hand, she prepared herself for that which he was duty bound to give.

Leaning down slowly, he let his mouth brush against her jaw and cheek gently before moving to her mouth. Their lips grazed one another momentarily, his beard scraping softly against her cheek. With one swift movement his lips crashed into hers, their entwined hands forcing his arrow home.

Digging her fingers deeper into his flesh, the woman pressed her lips to his with a fierceness she could not comprehend. The pain came in a quick burst and then all she could feel was him. As the blood came more quickly, she found it harder to breathe. His fingers stroked hers softly while his lips were bruising and demanding. Deeper down she went, not having the energy or the will to fight what was certain. Once again the sounds of the creek faded into nothingness.

* * *

Ok so what do you guys think? Last night I was listening to a CD by my favorite band, Rasputina. They do a song called Hunter's Kiss and I have always found it very haunting and romantic despite the fact that it is about a hunter killing a deer. Yes, I am a total fruit. Lol

I have also been on a kick recently of reading stories where people wander from the beaten path and have horrid things happen to them. The Brothers Grimm warped me as a child apparently. Btw, if you dig the fairy tale vibe then I suggest you go check out homeric's work!

So once I had the general idea I realized I could not write this story about any knight other than Tristan. It just seemed to fit. Now I leave you with the lyrics to the song that inspired me...

Hunter's Kiss by Rasputina:

Here's the sad story, about a deer, and a man!

A romantic scene, from a lullaby,  
In the clearing green, where his eyes met mine.  
I was froze in motion, oh his bow was raised,  
Then the fleeting notion, that my life he'd save.

[Oh] But I saw it coming, flying through the air,  
Feathered backside humming. Miss' me, hit me where?  
Where it will only hurt me, not a mortal wound.  
Leave me lying dirty, someone would find me soon.

I have never, felt like this before.  
Felt my body sinking, to the grassy floor.  
No I have never, known a love like this,  
Felt the flaming arrows, of the hunter's kiss.

My life is not mine, like a dog or a wife.

He has taken his time, he has taken my life.

I could see the steaming, of his cloudy breath,  
No, I was not dreaming, I was next to death.  
As I lay there twitching, then my legs he tied.  
There was nothing missing, on the day I died.

I have never, been like this before.  
Felt my body sinking, to the grassy floor.  
No I have never, known a love like this.  
Love the flaming arrows, of the hunter's kiss.

No I have never felt like this before.  
Never felt my body sinking to the earth's grassy floor.  
Now I know I have never known a love like this.  
Never felt the flaming arrows of the lonely hunter's kiss.


End file.
